


After the Ball

by Gwynne



Series: After the Ball [1]
Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-10-08
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-12 12:31:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwynne/pseuds/Gwynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Midsummer Ball Gregor has an unexpected visitor.</p><p>I had been posting chapters separately, but I may possibly have achieved a glimmer of competence, and managed to post them together.</p><p>The seventh chapter is new! Ha!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Gregor shook himself awake, gave one determined wrench at his bonds, then forced himself to lay back in apparent acceptance. Arms tied behind his back, ankles tied together, blindfold, gag. Wristcom gone. Splitting headache. On a carpeted floor, half-sitting, leaning against a wall. Standard procedure – see what happens next, wait for rescue. And fume with helpless, well-concealed rage. One minute he was wearily heading towards his rooms after yet another Midsummer Ball had finally wound to a close, the next he was – wherever this was.

He waited grimly for drugs, or a beating, or gloating from his kidnappers. All he could do was endure until he escaped or, more likely, was rescued. His only consolation was to start deciding just what he'd do to the kidnappers when ImpSec finished with them.

"Oh dear..."

Not the first thing he expected to hear. He waited, feeling slightly less worried. This didn't sound like a hard-core terrorist.

"Are you awake yet? It's not supposed to knock you out for too long. Hello?" He felt a touch on his shoulder, then some fumbling at the blindfold. "Ok, now I'm going to take this off, so we can talk. Well, I'll talk, you can listen. I can't take the gag off, sorry, I don't want you making a noise. But this is really important, so listen carefully, ok?"

His kidnapper pulled the blindfold away and gazed at his face.

Then gasped and rebounded, sliding backwards to sit on the far side of the small space – some kind of storage room, it seemed. And his kidnapper wasn't a hard-bitten Cetagandan Ghem, or a crazed Komarran terrorist.

He'd been kidnapped by a girl.

Gregor ground his teeth at the shame of it.

She had a mask over her face, but the rest of her was most definitely female. A young woman had just kidnapped him. He looked around, hopefully there were some men nearby. He couldn't have been kidnapped by just one girl.

"Ohhh bugger." She peered at him for a moment, then dropped her face into her hands. "You're not an armsman." She looked up at him accusingly, "It was dark in the corridor, I saw the house colours, I thought it was livery. I thought – I wanted an armsman." Her voice was quiet, but anguished, "I've kidnapped the bloody emperor! Ohhhh bugger!"

Not at all the steely professional he was expecting.

She whimpered quietly for a few moments, then took a deep breath, "Sire, I'm so sorry, this was a horrible case of mistaken identity. I wanted an armsman. I - " She glanced towards the door, "Ohhh no."

There was the sound of footsteps outside.

"Er, please excuse me for a moment sire." She scrambled to her feet and opened the door quietly, peeked out and then slipped through.

He heard a mumble of voices, a thud, and then the door was nudged wide and his captor backed into the room, dragging a large, still form. She briskly searched her new prisoner, flipped him over to remove his wrist-com and tie his hands behind his back, then lashed his ankles together and gagged him.

Gregor gazed at the familiar blue and gold House uniform and sighed. Ivan's sense of timing was, as usual, superb.

"He'll come round in a minute, it shouldn't knock anyone out for long." As she spoke the figure on the floor started to twitch.

"Now, sire, I wanted to give one of the armsmen a message for you, but since you're here – oh dammit."

Once again she slipped out, there were the same muffled noises, and like a mother cat bringing food for her young she dragged another body into the now-crowded room. This one was smaller, and in familiar brown and silver.

"At least he's not as heavy. How many more are out there?" She quickly searched and secured her newest captive, muttering to herself, "Vor lords, collect the whole set. Only fifty-seven to go."

By the time she'd finished and settled back against the opposite wall Ivan had woken up and, showing a praiseworthy protective instinct, wriggled to sit beside Gregor to shield him from whatever mad attacks she had in mind.

Miles was already blinking and wriggling, for a few moments they all watched as he struggled furiously against his bonds. Finally he settled down in sullen silence.

"Now," She went on as if there'd been no interruption, "Sire, I have a message for you. Well, some information. I really wanted to give it to an armsman to give to you, but this will be as good, I suppose." She took a deep breath to go on.

Miles started struggling wildly again, kicking and rolling around. She rolled him away from the door, "Please, you can't do that, you'll get hurt. Look, I'm not going to do anything, I just have to tell the emperor something, then I'll go, ok? You're all quite safe."

Miles's wild struggles had twisted his gag away from his mouth. He jerked his chin free of the fabric to snarl, "Safe? The emperor is bound and gagged in a cupboard. That's not a given value of safe that I recognise!"

"Well that's not my fault. I thought he was an armsman. I wanted an armsman."

"So put him back!"

"If you'd stop interrupting I would!"

They glared at each other like angry cats. Ivan watched helplessly. Miles's eyes flicked to the emperor, meeting a calm gaze. Oh wonderful, Gregor was having a 'let's see what happens' moment.

He hissed in helpless fury, "Fine, go on then."

She sat back and started again, "Sire, I came here out of my sense of Vor duty." She was obviously launching into a prepared speech.

"You know who you have here?" Miles growled the question as he wriggled in frustration.

"The Emperor. I recognised him from the vids, although he's a bit more ruffled right now. And … you're Lord Vorkosigan, the Imperial Auditor. And he…" she peered at Ivan, who tried to smile as his automatic girl-seeking reflex kicked in, "He's Lord Ivan Vorpatril, I think. Now, Sire, I came here because of some important and worrying information I - "

"You know you're in deep trouble, right?" Miles wriggled to sit beside Ivan.

"Ohhh yes, I know that. Sire, I have some important information for you…"

"Treason. That's what it's called when you kidnap an emperor. And an Imperial Auditor. And when you draw a weapon in the Emperor's presence."

"I didn't draw a weapon! Sire, I've discovered something that I need to tell you…"

"Yes you did. You stunned us all."

"It wasn't a stunner, it was just a little puff of sleeping gas. In a perfume dispenser. Not illegal at all. Well, the dispenser isn't. Now, Sire, I've found out about…"

"You know what the sentence for treason is? Death by starvation in the main square."

"Good, I always wanted to die thin and famous. Now, Sire, there's a…"

"And you've committed, by my calculations, at least three counts of treason and several other crimes."

"Well you can only kill me once, so I get the rest of my crimes for free, right? Now, SIRE, I was doing some research and I found…"

"It doesn't matter what you say right now. ImpSec will fast-penta you. So you may as well let us all go now, and then we can question you properly, and see just how real this important information is."

"I'm going to …avoid ImpSec. Once I leave you won't find me. And my information is important, so would you LISTEN for a moment, dammit! Sire, I've found a way that…"

"Just how do you think you'll get away from here?"

She glared at him, "When I finish telling the emperor my information, if I ever do, I'll stun you and then untie you. I've got a stun-gun ready for that, it lasts a whole lot longer than the sleep drug. I was going to stun the armsman I caught, anyway. By the time you wake up and untie the others I'll be gone."

Miles smirked, "You can't stun me. It sets off dangerous seizures. You could kill an Imperial Auditor."

"That's getting more attractive by the minute. But, ok, not you. I'll stun him." She pointed at Ivan, who looked alarmed.

"So you'll draw a weapon in the presence of the Emperor?"

She took a few deep breaths, "Fine. I'll drag him out of here and stun him, OUT of the emperor's presence."

"And leave him in the corridor?"

"I'll drag him back here."

"He's pretty big. And heavy."

"I know." There was a pause as both of them regrouped. "Look, this wasn't meant to happen quite so…"

"Catastrophically?"

"Awkwardly. Sire, please, I just need a few moments." Briskly she leaned forward and settled the gag in Mile's mouth again, to his muffled fury. "Sire, I'm sorry, I can't take your gag out, you'd order me to let you go and I couldn't refuse." Miles snarled in fury, why hadn't he thought to simply order her in the Emperor's Voice to let them go? Then he settled back, because Gregor wanted to see what was going to happen, that was why. So far they didn't seem to be in real danger. He started working at the bonds around his wrists as he listened.

"Sire, a short time ago I discovered some serious information that shows you could be in imminent danger. I tried to tell ImpSec, but the officer I called didn't think a mere girl would know anything important." She snarled, "So I decided I had to take action."

"Do you do this sort of thing often?" Ivan's voice startled everyone. He'd worked his gag loose. Gregor sighed, trust Ivan to free his mouth instead of his hands.

"What, kidnap the Emperor? Not as a regular thing, no."

"Aren't you worried? Scared?"

She studied her three captives, then spoke quietly, "I'm so scared I can barely breathe. But I have to do this. It seemed like a perfectly sensible plan at the time, although I'm beginning to wonder. Now, SIRE, I've found that there's a way into the palace."

"Obviously." Ivan smiled sunnily at her, "Otherwise, how did you get in?"

"Well, yes, but… oh for heaven's sake would you all shut up and LISTEN, dammit!" She covered her face for a moment, took a deep breath, and fixed her eyes on the wall over their heads, "I know there's secret escape passages out of the Imperial residence. Well, Countess Cordelia used one when she killed the Pretender. Everyone learns that story in school." She glanced at the three in front of her, "I suppose you all learned it from the source." She gulped, momentarily derailed. Gregor wondered if she had a mental image of Cordelia coming to rescue her son again, and smiled grimly to himself. "I was doing some historical research and I found… accidently found… an old passage that led into the Palace."

Ivan nodded, "There's probably lots of them. Place is riddled with passages and secret doors and who knows what."

"Yes, well when I followed the passage I found signs that it had been in recent use. And not from the Palace end – the final hatchway obviously hadn't been opened for some time. But there were some supplies, stockpiles, all set ready and obviously recent." She glanced at her audience, they were finally tuned in, "And there were some sets of Vorbarra livery." She definitely had their attention now. "And weapons. And maps of the Residence, showing where the Emperor's private apartments are. And the general duty rosters of the armsmen, and security information… I tried to get someone to listen, ImpSec or the municipal guard, but they wouldn't. And I didn't want to disturb the stuff and let whoever was collecting it know they'd been discovered, I thought it'd be better to see who turned up to use it." She glared at the emperor, "You really do need to do something about the way they treat women on Barrayar. If this was Beta they'd have listened to me." She huffed for a moment, then went on, "I set up some surveillance cameras. Here's the vids showing who turned up to check on the stockpiles," she held up a data disk, "And the information on how to tap into the feed to monitor what goes on from now. If you actually believe that a mere female knows what she's doing, you can find out who's getting ready to invade the palace. Apart from me, I mean."

She dropped the data disk in front of Gregor, then stood up. Ivan looked at her with trepidation, "Now, sweetie, you don't need to stun me. Truly. It hurts and it gives me a horrible headache."

"Well, I can't stun either of them." She grabbed his ankles and heaved him towards the door.

Ivan tried to kick away from her, "Wait! Let's talk about this!"

She dropped his feet wearily, "Please. I'm doing my best here. Could you at least try to help a little?"

Ivan wriggled back to the wall, "Do you have any idea what it'll do to this uniform, dragging me all over the place? These house uniforms are expensive, you know?"

She checked her wristcom and sighed, "This has all taken way too long. I'm sorry, but I'm out of time. And what's one more treason charge, anyway, you can only execute me once, right?" She reached into a pocket and drew out a small, serviceable stunner. All three men froze for a moment, watching.

Ivan babbled on, "You know that all energy transmissions are monitored right? As soon as you fire that, there'll be ImpSec agents coming from all directions."

She hesitated, then nodded decisively, "So you won't be here too long after I fire. Good. Again, sire, I'm sorry about this." She raised the weapon and pointed it at Ivan, then raised it a little higher and fired it over his head. Ivan flinched as the beam hissed above him.

A second later she was gone, leaving the three men in the dim cupboard. Ivan smiled at them both, "Nice girl, I thought. Wonder who she is?"

He met two identical infuriated cousinly glares. Miles, who'd wriggled his wrists free several minutes ago, quietly removed his gag, then untied his ankles and moved to free Gregor.

Both men stood up and swung their arms for a moment to restore circulation, then turned to the door.

"Hey!" Ivan looked up at them.

Miles sighed and glanced at Gregor, "I don't suppose we can leave him here?"

"The maids would complain when they came in here for their supplies."

"Fine." Miles deftly undid the bonds on Ivan's wrists, then scooped up the data disk and the wrist-coms, "Let's see what our little friend left for us."

"And then, Lord Auditor, you have a new job. Find that young lady." Gregor strode out the door.

As they headed down the corridor Miles spoke rapidly into his wrist-com, giving orders to close down the shuttle ports and hold all travellers for extra identity checks, paying special attention to young women. "Oh, and Gregor, I'll need Ivan for this one."

"Ivan?" Gregor gave his tall cousin a doubtful look, "Why?"

"We can't identify our quarry by her face, but Ivan is the Barrayaran Imperial expert on the female form. If anyone can recognise that girl by her figure alone, it's him."

Ivan brightened up and looked proud of his new status.

"Fine. He's yours as long as you need him. Just find her."

Miles grinned like a happy crocodile, "Oh, I will. We have unfinished business."

Ivan nodded, "Right then, Gregor, you promised us a quiet drink to wind down after all the guests went home after the Ball. I think we need it now."

Gregor sighed, "For once, Ivan, you're right."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Her?”

“Too thin.”

“That one?”

“Too bouncy.”

“Over there, the one in blue.”

“Too young.”

Miles leaned back in his chair and glared at his cousin, “Ivan, we were in a darkened cupboard with her for a few minutes. Can you be really sure about this?”

Ivan smirked and sipped his coffee – it’s not easy to do both at the same time, but he managed it with flair. “Miles, she was a woman. I don’t need minutes – I’d have her memorised in seconds.”

“Ok, so what did you memorise?” 

Ivan grinned to himself, that snarky tone meant that Miles was getting twitchy. Sitting in a café all day watching girls walk by was Ivan’s idea of heaven, but for Miles the enforced lack of action was getting to him. “Well, she was a shade under average height, for a woman. Good figure, very good figure, nice rounded hips and breasts with a slender waist, yes a very good figure – ”

“I grant you the figure. Definitely fine. What else?”

Ivan considered, “Mid twenties. Well educated. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Vor.” 

“Probably.”

“She talked about doing her Vor duty.”

Miles straightened up again, “Could have been a red herring?”

“Not the way she said it.”

“No, probably not. Ok then, we’re looking for a Vor maiden. Or a young wife.”

Ivan shook his head, “No. Not a wife. Wives have a different… aura.”

Miles glared at him, “You know, if you took even a fraction of the effort and attention you put into your dealings with women and put it into your career you’d be…”

“…very busy.”

“Idiot.”

They sipped coffee for a while in silence. Ivan scanned a few more likely prospects and shook his head. This had been a lot easier the last few days, when he did his girl-surveying accompanied only by ImpSec agents. Unfortunately today Miles had come along to help. And Miles wasn’t good at waiting. Ivan wondered what he’d been like on long stakeouts – he probably gave those jobs to other Dendarii. Admirals get the fun shooty bits.

Miles sighed, “We’ll try nearer the university tomorrow. There’s still plenty more places you haven’t checked yet.”

Ivan frowned, “I just don’t understand it. I didn’t recognise her.”

“The mask probably had something to do with that.”

“No, I mean – she’s a Vor maiden. In the capital. I should have seen her before. Recognised her from somewhere. All the Vor buds are paraded at the Imperial receptions, balls, and every other shindig poor Gregor has to tolerate. And then there’s all the private parties and balls. Vor buds are always on show – I’ve seen them all. She’s in her mid twenties, I’d guess – she has to have been around for a few years. Why didn’t I recognise her?”

“You know EVERY Vor maiden on sight?”

“Yes.” 

The simple answer made Miles pause for a moment. In this, alone, Ivan was supremely confident. He frowned, “So why would a Vor bud be in Vorbarr Sultana and not on the social scene? Attendance at Imperial events, at least Midsummer, Winterfair and the Emperor’s Birthday, are practically compulsory for Vor in the capital. Even if she’s not High Vor she should have been at SOMETHING in the last few years.”

“She’s high Vor.”

This time Miles snorted in exasperation, “Ivan, how can you possibly know that?”

“Educated accent, attitude, the way she moved, refinement, confidence… just … everything. I just know.”

And he did, too. That was the frustrating thing about Ivan, his idiocy amounted to a kind of genius in very specific situations. Miles fiddled with his coffee cup, “So, we have a mystery. A High Vor bud in Vorbarr Sultana who doesn’t mix with other High Vor. Despite it being expected to the point of almost being an order.”

“Maybe she’s not from around here.”

“She’s been around here long enough to do… what? Some kind of historical research, she said? What research? Yes, we’re definitely trying the university tomorrow. There’s plenty of young women there.”

Ivan sighed happily. This was the best job ever.

The next day didn’t start well. Miles turned up. Ivan resigned himself to another day of watching Miles fidget, fiddle and fail to sit still. He scanned the scene around him as he sipped his first coffee of the day. They were in the main University square, at a small café with tables scattered under some very decorative trees. Miles had unerringly chosen the table that gave the best view while being partially screened from casual gazes. He leaned back, then forward again, then rattled his cup and twisted around in his chair. Ivan sighed silently, it was going to be a long day. 

Miles surveyed the passing students, there was a general air of rumplement about them. He was, as usual, in his crisp grey Auditor’s outfit. He frowned at Ivan, “Dress greens? You couldn’t find civvies?”

Ivan nodded at his cousin’s well-cut Auditorial suit, “Dendarii grey?”

The snarled at each other for a moment in perfect family harmony.

Ivan nodded at the square, “There’s enough uniforms out there, this doesn’t set me apart.” Which was true, there were always young officers doing their degrees in engineering, medicine, higher mathematics… not many in art or music, of course. But enough over all that a green uniform wasn’t unusual. He glared at Miles, “You stand out more than I do. Most of the clothes out there haven’t been crisp and pressed in… like… forever.”

Miles glared right back, “I’d stand out anyway.”

“True, they seem strangely lacking in the hunchbacked dwarf department.”

“On the other hand, Vor blockheads are well represented.”

They nodded at each other, happily engaged in their cousinly warfare. Suddenly Ivan froze, looking remarkably like a gun dog on point. Miles looked around, “Where?”

“There.”

“Where?” Miles was jiggling frantically in his seat, “I can’t see… where? Which one?”

“That one.” Ivan pointed at a table at the far end of the café. 

Miles craned his neck to see without seeming to look, “What… where… who?”

There was a group taking over the far table, four women and two men. They were all dressed in the loosely casual clothes favoured by students and young academics, all four women were in Komarran-style pants and jackets, with figure-hugging blouses underneath, made popular by the new Empress. One man had loose pants and a back-country-style overshirt, the other was in Vorbarr Sultana street fashions a couple of years out of date. They were busy with tea and coffee cups, and a pile of flimsies being passed around. Two of them had portable comsets set up on the table. 

Miles hissed in frustration and bounced in his chair as he surveyed the women, “Which one? They’re all… how can you tell? Which is she?” 

Ivan was relaxed, watching his prey, “Dark blue jacket and pants, cream top. Has her back half to us.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.”

Now that action was close, Miles settled down with iron-clad calm.

Ivan stretched languidly and finished his coffee, “So, now what? We pounce? I like pouncing.”

“We watch, and wait. Then pounce. Then a quick trip to ImpSec and a nice dose of fast-penta.”

“And then… what?” Ivan frowned, “I mean… I know she broke a few rules, but she did probably save Gregor’s life, too. And Laisa’s as well.” Ivan shuddered at the thought of losing both of them so soon after marriage, they hadn’t even had time to start a sprog in a replicator yet. “What’s ImpSec doing about that stuff in the tunnel?”

Miles smiled like a happy shark, “They checked the vids she gave us, then did DNA scans of everything in the tunnel. It was even-money bets on Komarran terrorists or Barrayaran isolationists, they all hated Gregor’s marriage to a Komarran. But, strangely, it was neither.”

“Then who? Cetagandans?”

They froze for a moment as two of the women left the group, then relaxed again.

Miles shook his head, “Not Cetas. Not even Jacksonians, which was my bet. And it wasn’t, after all, a plot against Gregor.” Miles paused, with an irritating grin, watching as Ivan tried to control his frustration.

Finally Ivan broke, “Ok, give, Lord Auditor Coz. Who was it?” 

Miles paused, enjoying the moment, “Art thieves.”

“What?”

“Common thieves, no politics involved. There’s plenty of rooms in the Residence, whole corridors of them, that are rarely used. They planned to avoid the security patrols and armsmen, and clear out all kinds of rare art treasures from the areas that aren’t in current use. It could have been weeks or even months before anyone realised, and by then they’d be safely off-planet and out of the Empire.”

“So she didn’t save the emperor after all.”

“Well, ImpSec always get twitchy at the thought of anyone breaking and entering at the Residence. And this was a pretty nasty gang – they had balls, to plan a grab under the Emperor’s nose. They’re still being questioned, it’s possible that there’s more to it than we know so far, and there’s a few more of them who’ve slipped the net for the moment. ImpSec is chasing them down as fast as they can. They have a lot more questions to answer, it’ll take days to make sure there’s nothing more behind it than art theft.”

“I should have bought shares in Fast-Penta.” Ivan frowned and returned to the point that was worrying him, “So what happens to her? She at least THOUGHT she was saving the emperor. And she didn’t hurt any of us.”

Miles snarled at the memory of being bound and gagged. “There’s a little matter of several counts of treason.”

“That could happen to anyone. Happened to you.”

Miles wasn’t getting any happier, he straightened up and snapped, “I didn’t – ” Then he froze as there was action at the target table. A flurry of movement ended with both men and one woman walking away. The only one left was their quarry.

Ivan nodded towards her, “Now?”

“Ohhhh yes.” Miles whispered a few commands into his wrist-com, then both men stood up and sidled casually towards their target. Her back was partly towards them, they were shielded by trees and other customers, it was easy to get nice and close without tipping her off.

In that moment the family resemblance was very strong, both cousins wore exactly the same evil anticipatory grin.

Valya stretched and relaxed, taking a deep breath of fresh air. Well, as fresh as it got in the city. Life was back to normal. She’d had one stupid episode, but she’d got through it safely and now she could go back to being just herself again. 

She finished her tea, reached forward to put the cup down and suddenly there were people in the chairs each side of her. “Did you forget something?” she turned to see what Sacha or Ivanka had come back for and was face to face with a coldly triumphant Imperial Auditor. 

She had one moment of pure horror that coursed through her like an electric shock. A desperate glance to her other side met a large forest-green wall, decorated with gold braid and topped with a handsome, happy smile.

Without hesitation she kicked out, her flying foot impacting the hulk on her left in a place no Vor maiden should admit to knowing about, then twisting smoothly away to leap to her feet and hit the ground running, heading across the square to dodge between buildings and escape.

Well, that was the plan, anyway. Unfortunately her first move was blocked and then a strong arm snaked around her, gripping her arm in a hold she couldn’t break. Before she realised what had happened she was on her feet, held tightly against an expanse of gold braid. One arm was useless, caught between her body and her captor’s, the other was held in an iron grip. The auditor had also bounced to his feet and was giving her an evil grin.

“Well, hello again. So nice to see you in daylight.”

She tried to kick her captor’s ankles. She recognised the big one as Lord Ivan Vorpatril, looking somehow more dangerous now than he had the last time she saw him. He hissed as she kicked him and twisted her around a little to evade her feet, “Now that’s not very polite. Do you want to walk out of here under your own power, or shall we call ImpSec and have you dragged out of here in shackles?” His voice was light, almost joking, but she could hear the steel underneath.

Lord Auditor Vorkosigan walked around her, looking at her from different angles, “Well, Ivan, I have to say you do know your stuff. We’ll do a DNA scan to confirm, of course, but her reaction does seem to prove you right.”

Belatedly she realised she’d miscalculated. She tried for an innocent reaction anyway, “What’s going on? What do you think you’re doing? What do you want with me?” Both men watched her innocent act in silence. She didn’t have to pretend the panic in her voice, “Look, I think you’ve made some kind of mistake.”

The auditor nodded towards a black lightflyer with silver, shielded windows that settled in a nearby corner of the square, “Well it can all be sorted out quickly. A few questions under fast-penta and we’ll know if we have the right person, won’t we. No problem.”

She gave up on the innocent act. “But why? I haven’t… I was HELPING you! I didn’t hurt anyone!”

There were no smiles now, “You. Kidnapped. The. Emperor.”

“I didn’t mean to!” She wailed miserably, “I wanted an armsman! It was a mistake!”

“Oh yes, my dear. It certainly was.”

All through the conversation she was being walked towards the lightflyer. Lord Ivan had her in a grip she couldn’t break. The Lord Auditor had picked up her bag, portable comconsole and the pile of files from the table and trotted along beside them.

“Please, please don’t do this.” There was a note of panic now. “Please, it’s only going to make things worse. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong, I just wanted to warn him – my intentions were good. Truly. I just wanted to … to do the right thing.”

“Breaking into the Residence and kidnapping the Emperor doesn’t seem all that right to me. You could have just given the information to ImpSec or the police.”

They were at the flyer now. She planted her feet to stop progress, “I tried! They wouldn’t listen to me.”

“We checked. They got anonymous calls from some girl who wouldn’t give a name or contact number. Naturally they didn’t take it seriously.”

She was lifted effortlessly and tossed into the lightflyer. Before she could jump out again the two men were in the flyer with her, one each side. There were two impassive ImpSec agents in the front seat.

She reached desperately to try and escape, only to see the hatch snap shut. She turned to the auditor, “Please, this won’t… I didn’t mean to…”

“Why wouldn’t you give your name? What is it, anyway? You may as well tell us now, we’ll know in a few minutes anyway.”

She blinked back tears of frustration, and fear. This was going horribly wrong, and was only going to get worse. “I didn’t tell them who I was because… because it wouldn’t have helped.” Her voice was quiet now, dead and miserable, “Please let me go. This … isn’t good.”

“Definitely not. And it’s going to get worse.” The auditor seemed happy about that. 

Lord Ivan was frowning, “Miles, she did mean well. You know how things can go wrong even when you mean well… are you sure this is a good idea…?”

“She MEANT to invade the Residence. Illegally. She MEANT to kidnap an armsman, she did even worse than that. She can make her case at the trial.”

The girl shuddered and seemed to shrink. 

Miles went back on the attack, “You didn’t answer. Who are you? We’ll need a name for the arrest records.”

This was every nightmare she’d ever had. “I… I just wanted to try and put things right, a little… I was trying to help… I wanted to do something to make up for…”

“Name.”

No point in fighting this, the fast-penta would take away all chance of avoiding the question. She sagged in the seat, seeing no way to escape now. “V-Valya.”

“That’s a pretty name.” Lord Ivan smiled as if this was some social event. 

The auditor glared at him then looked back at her, “Valya? Short for Valentina?”

She nodded.

“Valentina Vor-what?”

Chin up, eyes blank, hold onto dignity for as long as possible. That’s all there was now. She looked calmly at the man who was going to be her executioner. One bad decision was going to end her, good intentions would mean nothing. She knew there was no chance for her. They’d probably keep it quiet, publicity would only cause problems. Or would it be the main square and the public penalty for treason? Maybe some people would be happy to see her end that way, it’d be some kind of karmic justice perhaps.

But no matter what, one word was going to end all her chances. She took a deep breath.

“Valentina… Vordarian.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“Valentina… Vordarian.”

The Lord Auditor nodded, “Oh, one of old Count Oleg’s grand-daughters? Are you the one who breeds dogs?”

Lord Ivan looked over at the Auditor, “Irritating yappy little things.”

The two men glared at each other briefly.

“No.”

“Or,” the auditor went on briskly, “…are you the one who was just betrothed to Count Voreedi’s nephew?”

“No.”

“The one who got arrested for swimming naked in the fountain in the Great Square?” 

Ivan smiled in fond recollection at that one.

“No.”

They waited for a moment, but there didn’t seem to be more explanation coming.

“Not that one? So which one are you?”

She stared out at the city she might not see again, “I’m not any of them.”

“So, some kind of relation then?”

“Yes, some kind.”

Ivan smiled at her, his automatic response-to-female kicking in, “I haven’t seen you at any of the Vor social bashes. Have you been in Vorbarr Sultana long?”

“Six years. Ever since I started at the university.” She was trying to keep her voice steady.

“But you don’t socialise? I’d remember you if I’d seen you at anything.” Ivan was busy generating his usual female-attracting field effect. 

“Not much point, with my name.”

Miles frowned, “But there’s plenty of Vordarians around. Nobody worries about old history – Count Oleg was some sort of cousin to the Pretender, he stayed loyal to the Emperor, and was resoundingly voted in as Count in his place a year or so after the Pretendership. There’s no hard feelings towards him, or any of the family. Everyone has a few embarrassing relatives.” He glared at Ivan. 

“I’m not close to that branch of the family.” The groundcar was turning into a courtyard, all high walls and stone-flagged paving and a forbidding building hunkered down in the centre of it all. Hard and cold. The gate guards had pinged the ID chip in the groundcar and waved them through.

“Well, here we are. Cockroach central.” Miles hopped out cheerfully. Ivan helped the prisoner out as courteously as if he were escorting her to a Midsummer Ball. But he kept a deceptively firm grip on her arm as he turned her towards the grim building.

Valya shuddered, then put her chin up and stepped forward.

Processing was quick: the retina scan, DNA check, voice print, full body scan for weapons, and all the other ImpSec procedures that ran like a well-oiled machine. She didn’t resist, it was pointless. 

All the time the Lord Auditor waited, with what he apparently thought was patience. Most people would have said he was so tense he was nearly vibrating. Ivan stayed safely in the background, an innocent bystander just keeping an eye on things.

At last it was all done. She expected a cell, but instead she was ushered into a small room. It looked like a harmless meeting room, with chairs around a central table. But some of the chairs had restraints built into the arms, and cupboards around the walls held the promise, or threat, of items that she didn’t want to think about. Two ImpSec agents filed in and silently took up position, one behind her and one near the Lord Auditor.

Ivan ushered her to a chair, one with discreet wrist restraints. For all she knew, it was rigged to deliver electric shocks as well. Valya sat down carefully. She’d wake up soon. This wasn’t happening. It was just one more nightmare.

The small grey-suited nightmare in front of her reached for her wrist and placed a small patch there, then peeled it away again. They all watched in silence as nothing happened. After a full minute of nothing at all, the auditor discarded the patch and reached for a small silver hypospray. Ivan took a chair to one side of her as the auditor settled across the table and reached for her arm. Still working in silence, he rolled back her sleeve and pressed the hypospray against her skin. 

Valya leaned back in her chair. It was over, she’d have no chance now.

“Count backwards from ten.”

She tried to stay silent, to at least resist that much, but soon she heard her voice… “…five…. four…”

And then the world was calm, and relaxed. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be happy.

Ivan watched as the foolish fast-penta smile settled on her face. “Miles, she’s just…” An auditorial glare made him fall silent.

Miles started the familiar routine, “What is your name?”

“Valentina Paulina Vordarian.”

“Who are your parents?”

“Christina Vorinnis Vordarian and Sergei Vordarian.”

“Where are they now?”

“Dead.” 

“Do you have any siblings?”

“No.” Sadness drove away the smile for a moment, “There’s only me. I’m all that’s left.”

“How are you related to Count Oleg?”

“ He’s a cousin. Distant cousin. I don’t have much contact with that part of the family.”

“Do you have a job?”

“Yes.” She nodded happily.

“What is your job?”

“Building renovation and conversion. My own consulting business. I studied architecture at university.” She smiled happily at him, “It seemed such a nice safe occupation. I should have known better.”

Now he was getting close to the good stuff, “How did you find the tunnel?”

“I was surveying a building. It’d been abandoned for ages, the new owners were going to convert it to apartments.”

“And you found the tunnel…”

She nodded happily, “I worked out where it was heading. I’m good with directions.” She looked at him with muzzy seriousness, “I’m good with maps, too. I worked out where the tunnel went. And I found the uniforms, the flimsies with guard rosters, and all the rest of it.” The sadness came back, “I thought I could be… a hero. Do something really good. Save the emperor. I thought it’d make up for everything. But it all went wrong.”

“You broke in to the Imperial Residence.”

She nodded mournfully, “Nobody would listen to me, so I thought that I would prove that it was possible. Then give the evidence to an armsman and go.”

“But instead you kidnapped the emperor.”

She gazed at him seriously, “I don’t think it was a full kidnap, after all he never left his own home. I just …tied the emperor up. Is that a crime?”

Miles became more Auditorial, “You broke into the Imperial Residence, which is treason. You rendered the emperor unconscious, which is treason. You tied the emperor up, an assault on his person which is - ”

“I know. Treason.”

“Well done. You assaulted and tied up an Imperial Auditor. Also, you guessed it, treason. And you drew a weapon in the presence of the Emperor, and discharged said weapon in the presence of the emperor. Also, yes, treason.”

Ivan stirred restlessly, “What about me? She tied me up too.”

Miles flicked a glance at him, “She gets you for free.” Ivan glared at him. Miles focussed his attention on the girl again, “So many treason charges - you’re setting new records.”

“She’s not the first one to fall into a few treason charges. It can happen to anyone,” Ivan offered helpfully.

Another glare. “Not quite so many. All at once. Now, Valya, you admit that you committed all these crimes?”

“Oh, yes.” She nodded with fast-penta solemnity.

Miles took her through it again, and again, but the answers kept coming back the same. Yes, she’d found the tunnel, realised what was going on, collected the proof and then tried to tell the authorities, failed to get any response, so she’d followed her insane plan to deliver the information direct to an armsman in the Residence. It didn’t get better no matter how he twisted it around.

Finally Miles leaned back, his work almost done, “Why didn’t you give your name to the Municipal guard when you contacted them? Or to ImpSec?”

“My name hasn’t been much help to me. They wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Old history. Besides, there’s plenty of Vordarians around now, they don’t have any problems.”

“I’m not one of them.” She blinked at him, “Vorkosigan. Cordelia Vorkosigan’s son?”

Miles was more accustomed to being Aral Vorkosigan’s son. He nodded.

“Your mother killed my grandfather.” She frowned, “But it was fair, since my grandfather killed the emperor’s mother. I thought I could put it right, but it’s all gone so wrong.”

There was silence in the room for a moment.

Ivan leaned forward, “Who are you?”

“Valentina Paulina Vordarian.”

“No, but I mean…” He caught Miles’s glare and settled down again.

Miles took a deep breath, “Your grandfather was Vidal Vordarian? The Pretender?”

“Yes.”

“Your father was…his…son?” Miles tried frantically to remember any comments about a son.

“That’s right.”

“How…how did that come about?”

She frowned, “The usual way. They didn’t have replicators then.”

Miles sighed. Damn literal fast-penta. 

“I didn’t know the Pretender was married.”

She blinked for a moment, then her mind headed down a familiar track and the words came easily, “Count Vidal – well, he wasn’t the count then, of course – but he was married when he was twenty. It was common then, they often got married as soon as they finished the Academy, so that they could have an heir quickly. Had to keep the line going, you know. Vidal’s wife was a Vorinnis. She died having my father. Vidal didn’t have a mother or sisters, so he let the Vorinnis side raise the baby. The boy. My father. He knew his father, but didn’t see him all that often. He went to the Academy, of course, then got ship duty right away. And while he was on that first assignment – that’s when the Pretender made his try for the throne. My father – he was loyal, totally loyal to the emperor, he knew nothing about Vidal’s plans. They fast-penta’d him, they knew he was innocent of it all. But he was put under close arrest anyway, for his own protection as much as anything else.” 

She paused, but she didn’t need more prompting, the story was so familiar it carried her along. “By the time he got back to Barrayar it was all over. He was kept under arrest, but in the end he was totally cleared of all charges. Innocent.” She looked at then earnestly, “He was totally innocent. They all knew it.” 

She shook her head mournfully, “But it made no difference. He was the Pretender’s son. He resigned his commission, left the Service – he so wanted to serve, but he knew it just wasn’t possible. I think that broke his heart. He gave up the Countship too, he knew they didn’t want to accept the Pretender’s son. Being innocent isn’t enough, sometimes. Blood still counts. So he gave it all up, his career, his title, all the property, everything. He went to live in the Vorinnis district on a property that had been part of his mother’s dowry. He tried to just be a farmer, he had his books and music, and he met my mother – she was a poor relation, acting as governess for the Vorinnis children, the family didn’t care who she married.”

She blinked at the memories, now it was her life and not just stories she’d heard as a child, “They were happy, really happy. They had me, he thought they could risk having one child, so long as it was a girl. No son, of course.” Even the fast-penta couldn’t stop the tears now, “She died when I was twelve. It was quick, she got sick so fast, she was gone in less than a week, the doctors couldn’t do anything. But da, he just couldn’t take it without her. He told me he had to follow her, he asked if I’d like to go with them. He didn’t want to leave me behind.”

Miles and Ivan shared a shocked gaze, trying to imagine a father who could either deliberately leave a young daughter alone in the world, or cold-bloodedly offer to take her life. They both had parents who would, and had, fought to the last drop of blood for them; this calm story shook them to the core.

Miles got control of his voice, “But you…decided to stay?”

She nodded, “Yes, I don’t know if that was the brave choice, or the cowardly one. He did it the next day, he made it look like an accident with his lightflyer. My grandparents, my Vorinnis grandparents, sent me away to school.” She paused for a moment, “A school for sweet young Vor buds – it was pure hell. In the end I actually made a few friends, but … it wasn’t fun. University, that was better. I loved it, I did really well there, I’m working on my doctorate now. And I have the renovation business, it’s enough to support me. And everything is finally starting to go well. And now you’re going to execute me.”

She gazed at the small man in front of her, “I really thought… it was so stupid, but I thought I could …make up for things, somehow. Prove…something. Win back some honour. I just wanted to … to DO something…” Her face twisted in frustration, then was resigned again, “I suppose it’s full circle, isn’t it. My grandfather killed the Emperor’s mother. Your mother killed my grandfather. Now you kill me. Is that a circle? Or a spiral…”

“Stop.”

The room was silent. Ivan watched the struggle on his cousin’s face, and wondered yet again how he’d managed so well as an undercover agent. Maybe he just moved so fast that nobody had time to process his expressions. Or maybe it was situation-specific. Ivan knew a lot about being bland when necessary.

“She did break into the Residence…” Ivan knew it was time to feed his cousin a line.

“She entered without the correct permits. During a social occasion.” Miles spoke slowly, Ivan could almost see him reconstructing it in his weaselly little mind. 

“She kidnapped the emperor…””

“She engaged in a private discussion with the emperor and several members of his family. On a security matter.”

“She drew a weapon in his presence.”

“She signalled for assistance for the emperor. After giving him some vital information about an imminent, serious security breach.”

“She fled the scene.”

“She was too modest to stay to be thanked and congratulated.”

Ivan grinned, “You’re good. But aren’t you supposed to be honest in your reports?”

“I have to be honest with Gregor. With everyone else I just have to tell the truth.”

“Nice distinction. So… just how are you playing this one?”

Miles was deadly serious now, “It’s my job to give Gregor all the information he needs. I will. And to point the situation towards the best possible outcome. Also on my ‘to do’ list. And to protect the Emperor from situations that may cause political, security, or personal problems. Can you think of anything more likely to cause problems than having a young woman chained up in the Great Square, dying slowly? It’d play merry hell with the tourist trade, for a start.”

“Not a problem.” His stray questions had struck a chord from their interogatee. She rambled on, happily, “I’m sure someone will make sure I commit suicide in my cell. I should have gone with my da after all. Besides, I’m tired of living around the edges all the time. I don’t dare make really close friends, I can’t even consider falling in love with anyone. No husband, no children… I’ve got my business, I have my studies, it’s enough, it has to be enough… but…” she gazed around, muzzily, and fixed on Ivan, “Will you help me? When they come to do my suicide, will you be there? You’re kind.”

She turned towards Miles, “Will I be buried with my parents? There’s room. Or do I just disappear? No grave, no offerings burnt for me… I was never really here…”

“Stop.”

Miles reached for the hypospray that would bring her out of it, then hesitated and launched into a series of fast questions, “Are you loyal to Emperor Gregor?”

“Yes. I wanted to prove that…”

“Do you accept that his Vorbarra dynasty are the true rulers of Barrayar?”

“Yes. I’ve never doubted it. My father never doubted…”

“Would you ever raise your hand against him or his family?”

“No. I truly didn’t mean to hurt him, I thought he was an armsman…”

“Are you a loyal subject of the emperor?”

“Yes. I just wanted to prove it…”

“Have you ever taken a loyalty oath?”

“No, you don’t have to when you go to the university in Vorbarr Sultana. And I’m a woman, nobody’s ever asked me to…”

“Stop.” He pressed the hypospray to her arm and stood back. They watched as the smile eroded into a forced calm. Miles nodded to the guards, “Escort her to the secure accommodation. Keep her there under guard.”

Ivan followed him out of the room, “Not the cells?”

“Not for now, I - ”

“My lord Auditor? Sir, there’s been a development.” An ImpSec officer with Captain’s tab hurried up to them.

“Development?” Miles was already bounding towards the lift shaft.

“An explosion.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“Explosion? Where?” Miles was bounding along the corridor towards the main briefing room like an untethered weather balloon in a windstorm. Ivan trailed along behind - he had no idea if he was cleared for this, but he’d been drafted as the Auditor’s assistant, so he just kept up and kept quiet. He was good at that.

“Where is it? Get a map up!” Miles flung himself into a chair and started pounding on a comconsole. Ivan watched over his shoulder as an angry red blossom grew on a map of Vorbarr Sultana. 

Men hurried in and took their places around the table, muttering orders into wristcoms.

“Double up the ImpSec forces at the Residence and Vorhartung Castle,” General Allegre was barking orders as he hurried into the room, “Have the Navy detail more men to cover the space port. Municipal guards can do crowd control around the bombing, for now, with ImpSec handling the investigation. I want reports soonest. Sooner!”

“Who’s on site?” Miles had his eyes glued to the main screen, even as his fingers were tapping on his comconsole.

“The municipal guard.”

“What blew up?” He leaned forward to get a better view of the screen, “What was at the site?”

“Nothing.” Allegre frowned, “Nothing important. It’s just a run-down residential area, one step above a slum.” He watched some text flicker on his screen, “The municipal guard had gone to make an arrest and the house… blew up. They’re still sorting out dead and wounded, no idea how many were in the house. It’s probably nothing, just some civil problem, but we’ve taken the usual precautions anyway.”

Ivan relaxed in relief. He thought that Miles looked almost disappointed, he’d certainly calmed down from the initial tension. 

“Details on the arrest?” Miles tapped the screen, “I just want to check that it’s nothing for us to worry about.”

“Coming through now, my lord.” One of the techs tapped a comconsole for a moment.

Miles leaned forward,froze for a moment, then smiled up at Ivan, “The municipal guard were sent to arrest an art thief, one of the members of a ring that had recently been uncovered. Acting on information from… us.”

“Ah.”

“Ivan, how many explosive art works do you think there are?”

“I don’t imagine it’s a big part of the art scene. And there’s one less, now.”

“Let’s go and help the municipal guard. I like to see cooperation between our different law enforcement organisations.”

Ivan didn’t bother pointing out that Miles wasn’t an organisation. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“You do it. You’ve had the most experience.” Miles smiled sweetly up at his cousin.

Ivan sighed and walked into the tiny, windowless apartment. Tiny, windowless, claustrophobia-inducing apartment. Why it was worse in the apartment than in the corridor he had no idea, maybe because corridors were meant to be long and windowless, but apartments… you should be able to look outside from an apartment. No wonder they were all crazy in ImpSec, they’d been driven insane by the claustrophobia.

He looked down at the sleeping girl curled up on the bunk. If she’d been an official prisoner they’d have brought in female support personnel to guard her; on the rare occasions when there was a female prisoner they borrowed some female officers from the municipal guard, or at a pinch some of Laisa’s female bodyguards. But she wasn’t a prisoner, yet, she was in that grey area between guest, prisoner and … executed. 

“Miss? Miss Vordarian? Valentina? It’s time to wake up.”

She stirred, then turned over and blinked at him, “It’s time? Now? I – I see. I’m ready. How are you – ”

“Please come with me. We have to go.”

“You’re not doing it here?” She was still muzzy from sleep.

“Doing… what?” Ivan was confused for a moment, being so close to a woman and a bed tended to overload his circuits. Then the penny dropped, “No! No, I’m not here to – this isn’t – you haven’t been convicted of anything. Yet. We just have to go somewhere else. With the Lord Auditor. He’s still working on his investigation.”

She looked unconvinced. Perhaps she thought they were trying to be kind, they’d spring it on her without warning so that she didn’t suffer. Although being arrested by ImpSec, and charged with treason by an Auditor, rather took the suspense out of it all. It wasn’t a question of if, just of when. And private assisted suicide or public execution in the Main Square. Ivan tried to look reassuring as he ushered her into the (long, windowless, don’t think about it) corridor. 

“Uh… why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” Did claustrophobia show so obviously? 

“Um… kind of… ashy. And sooty.”

“Oh.” Ivan brushed futilely at himself, “I was at the site of an explosion. And fire. Someone made me crawl around in the rubble.” He glared at the source of his suffering.

Miles smiled, “And you crawled very efficiently. If it wasn’t for you it would have taken us much longer to find their weapons cache, and all the rest of it.”

“I fell through two floors. Into a secret cellar. Two. Floor, floor, cellar. Boom, boom, splat.”

“And most effective it was, too. And it gave us so much information, so quickly. Impressive research skills.”

Ivan grimaced, “Yes, an inspired application of the law of gravity. Well done me. Now can I go home and get a clean uniform, tend my wounds, and suffer in noble silence?”

“What, and miss the rest of the fun?” Miles bounded along in the lead. “You don’t want to drop out now.”

“I’ve already dropped. Two floors, remember?” Ivan grumbled his way along the corridor. He held Valya’s arm firmly as he ushered her along, somewhere between courteous escort and supervising guard. 

“So, the plot I told you about – have you had time to check on that? Did you catch them?” Surely they’d done something about it by now, unless that bomb had distracted them. Was it connected? Nobody had told her anything. There seemed to be a lot going on in ImpSec, she hadn’t realised the place was so busy. Maybe that wasn’t a good sign.

“Oh, your tunnel rats? Seems that they were art thieves. Planning a spot of Imperial burglary.” The Auditor flashed an edged smile as they navigated their way through the building. He seemed to know every twist and turn of the maze-like corridors.

She felt frozen, only Lord Vorpatril’s grip on her arm urged her along, “Art thieves? What? No – they were breaking into the Residence, they had uniforms and everything – it was a plot!” It had to be. She couldn’t be dying to protect a painting of Dorca’s grandfather or a statue of a horse. “No! It was… it was terrorists, or… or something…”

“We’re making further enquiries.” The Auditor paused to nod to the guards at the entrance, “So far all we’ve found are ordinary thieves, with delusions of grandeur.”

“And some explosive plans, apparently.” The tall lord frowned down at the Auditor, “We don’t know all the details yet.”

“Art thieves.” The words were bitter in her mouth. Valya let them load her back into the lightflyer, she felt numb. It was all a waste.

The driver took off smoothly, guiding them into the emergency level. They skimmed over rooftops going – she didn’t know where. Probably some prison. Or somewhere quiet for a more permanent disposal. Treason, half a dozen times over, and all for nothing. Valya smiled bitterly, there was nobody who’d really miss her, the friends she’d made at university would probably be told she’d moved somewhere else, and they‘d soon forget her. She didn’t even have a cat. Always ready to move on, always one step removed from everyone else.

And all for nothing.

The driver veered around one of the taller new buildings. They were heading for the Main Square. Valya felt a cold chill. 

She stared out the window as Vorbarr Sultana flashed past below them. Sunshine, she’d never valued sunshine so much. And freedom – she’d never valued the freedom to just walk around. She’d lived so small a life, trying to avoid trouble – now she thought of all the things she’d never done – she’d never been a proper Vor bud, wearing some glittering gown as she twirled around a ballroom in the arms of a High Vor swain who was whispering sweet words to her. Never finished her dissertation. Never been proud to say her name. Never had her own home, never had a lover. Never even had a pet. Never been off-world or worn beautiful jewels or written the definitive work on Time of Isolation architecture. Never swum naked in a fountain. Never… never… and now it was all too late.

“There’s probably mucky slime in the fountains anyway.” 

The two men stared at her for a moment, then met each other’s eyes, shrugged, and went on with their murmured conversation. Something about the need for the Auditor to get his own staff rather than kidnap relatives. 

They skimmed over the Main Square and started to descend. All that was left now was to keep control and be a true Vor to the end, even if it didn’t matter to anyone but herself.

Maybe she’d start to believe in reincarnation. She deserved better the next time around.

“With my luck I’ll be a cockroach.”

Again the two men paused, then kept going, “And you don’t even have a medical plan. Or compensation for injuries suffered while on duty.”

“But if I use available military personnel then they’re covered anyway.”

“I’m not available, dammit. I have a career of my own, you know.”

“Oh Ivan, I’m sure someone else at Ops can make the coffee for a while.”

Once again she was whisked out of the lightflyer and into another large building. The Auditor was muttering into his wristcom as they headed down yet another corridor. If she ever wrote that book on architecture, she’d devote one whole chapter to corridors. At least this one had carpet, and tasteful decoration here and there.

And then they swept into an outer reception area, past a few men in various uniforms, and into an inner office. A large one, with a comconsole desk, and conference table, and down one end a few couches and large, soft chairs grouped around a low table. 

And an emperor.

“Sire, I’d like to deliver my progress report.” 

The last time she’d seen the emperor up close he’d been tied up, gagged, and somewhat crumpled. Now he was tall and sleek and far more intimidating.

And ready to sentence her in person. This was it, he apparently wanted the satisfaction of condemning her himself. 

Valya felt grubby and crumpled. She tried to stand taller, then wondered if she should curtsey, or kneel. What was the etiquette for being sentenced to death? Keep control. Be Vor.

“Sire.” She stood straight and waited for a hint – if they wanted her to kneel no doubt they’d toss her to the floor in approved jailer-style. 

“Lady Valentina.” She didn’t use the title, it was odd to hear it now. “We understand that there have been developments…?” He glanced at the Auditor, “Miles?”

“Yes, Sire. Due to some inspired detection by my assistant…”

“Floor, floor, boom….”

“…we discovered that most of the crew were home-grown Barrayaran criminals, recruited for an audacious burglary, helping themselves to some of your Imperial treasures. But…” he was grinning now, “…that was just a front. Even the crime team didn’t know that there was something else going on. It seems that the ‘art expert’ who recruited them all was actually an off-worlder with a totally different agenda.”

Wait... what? Valya started to listen carefully. 

The Emperor waved them all to the couches where late afternoon sunlight slanted through the windows. A servant moved noiselessly to place a tray on the low table, offering coffee and a selection of sweet pastries. Starvation in the Main Square was looking a bit less likely. Valya sipped carefully and eyed the pastries, it wouldn’t hurt to stock up just in case.

“So we have… what? Komarran? Cetagandan? Jacksonian?” The Emperor seemed remarkably calm about it all. 

The Auditor took a mouthful of coffee as if it was only slightly less important than oxygen, then went on, “When we started arresting the group, the ringleader set off an explosion to destroy the evidence. But, as I said, some inspired detection brought results.”

“…both floors, and right down to the basement. And it was an old building, solid timbers, not the cheap manufactured stuff they use these days. I have splinters you don’t want to know about...”

The Auditor ignored the background mumble, “Not Komarran, I’m glad to say. And not Cetagandan, they seem to have lost interest in us. Not Jacksonian, which was my guess, they’re becoming our biggest problem for this kind of thing.”

He paused for dramatic effect. The Emperor waited patiently.

“It was…”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

“It was…” Miles paused. The background grumbles ran down to silence as the dramatic pause dragged on. Ivan watched as Gregor eyed Miles with growing amusement. He wondered if history would ever realise that one of Miles’s greatest services to the Empire was to provide his Emperor with moments of precious comic release. Hopefully Miles would remain as ignorant as History, the thought of Miles deliberately deciding to do something purely for Imperial entertainment made Ivan’s blood run cold. Gregor was definitely waiting patiently. Possibly a childhood with Miles was good training for Emperor-hood. After years with Miles, any crisis would seem simple. 

“…something we didn’t expect.” Miles was glowing now. 

“Miles…” an Imperial warning glare.

He grinned unrepentantly, “Sorry Sire. I only got the confirmation as we arrived at the Residence. And there’s still more questioning but we have the outline of the plot now, I think. It was…Barrayaran.”

Definitely displeased now, “You said off-worlder.”

“Yes. Off-Barrayar, but Barrayaran. Empire, not planet.”

Gregor sighed, “So it was Komarran terrorists after all. I thought we’d just about run out of them.”

“Not Komarr. There is another planet in the Empire, Sire.” A dignified return glare, “Your foster-parents are running it.”

There was a moment while Gregor digested this. Valya quietly helped herself to another pastry. That post in the Main Square was looking slightly less likely, but it didn’t hurt to plan ahead anyway. And the Imperial cook was GOOD.

“Sergyar? We have Sergyaran terrorists now? Wonderful. Just when we seem to be getting ahead, we’re back to where we started. But… Sergyar? There’s been no unrest there. In fact, the people there have seemed to be the most satisfied in the Empire – free land, local elected councils, most of them are ex-military and a lot are from your District, they idolise the Viceroy and Vicereine. Cordelia has set up a fantastic education system, there’s full medical care, Aral has encouraged local democracy, they’ve promoted local people into important positions... What’s gone wrong?” It was almost a wail of dismay.

“Not a terrorist Sire. Well yes, but not the usual kind. Our Sergyaran friend set up the art robbery to assemble the team that could get him into the Residence.”

“And then…?”

“And then…” Miles was serious now, “He was going to seek you out and kill you.”

“But why? What have I done to Sergyar?”

“Not Sergyar. Him. You’ve taken his place.”

“Miles…”

“You see, he’s the rightful Emperor.”

They all sat in silence for a moment. Valya tried to swallow silently, and not drop any crumbs on herself. Ivan Vorpatril reached a rather grimy hand towards another pastry, then caught her glance and winked at her as he scooped up a cream tart.

The Emperor seemed torn between anger and amusement, “Rightful Emperor? But… how?”

Miles grinned, “It seems that his mother was a maid at the Residence. She was very attractive, and a gentleman of high degree was so swept away by her beauty that he married her secretly. She fell pregnant, so he sent her away to have the child in secrecy and safety. But the political situation became ever more dangerous, and he was afraid to put his wife and son in danger. When the child was about ten years old Serg died, Ezar died, and a false Emperor was put on the throne. Or camp-stool, to be more exact. The boy grew up in hiding, always fleeing from ImpSec assassins, but now it’s time for him to return and claim his rightful place. All he has to do is remove you, and announce that the rightful ruler has returned. Oh, and he wants to pass a law banning pigeons in public places. He doesn’t like pigeons. He’s also going to issue edicts to make it compulsory to wear blue socks, and to serve bananas at every meal.”

“Uh… I take it that he’s …”

“Batshit crazy. Yes, Sire. He also wants to abolish the Council of Counts.”

“Not all that crazy, then.” The Emperor relaxed a little, “So how much of his story is true? Who was his father?”

“Well, parts of it are true. His mother was a maid at the Residence, briefly. ImpSec are still checking details, but they know she worked in the Residence kitchens. He doesn’t seem too sure who his father was, apparently neither was she. Part of the time he claims it was Ezar, other times it was Serg. According to a DNA scan, it wasn’t either of them.”

Gregor nodded in relief, “That goodness. That would be…a complication.”

“We haven’t found any evidence of a marriage. I’d guess that she had an association with someone on the staff, it’s unlikely that a kitchen maid would meet anyone else, they don’t get out of the servants’ territory. It might have been an armsman, to a kitchen maid he’d seem like a fine gentleman, certainly a social step up for her. In those days a pregnant maid would be ‘turned out without a character’, as my grandfather used to say. And with Barrayar’s attitude to the illegitimate… the poor girl probably invented a husband to protect herself and the baby. We know they moved around quite a bit, evading landlords rather than ImpSec, she ran out on a lot of bad debts all over Vorbarr Sultana, then further afield. They finally headed to Sergyar for a new start. His mother died last year, that’s when he seems to have really gone off the rails. He’s built this fantasy that you’ve taken his rightful place.”

“I’ll get a coin and toss him for it.” Gregor’s mouth had a bitter twist.

“Well, wanting to abolish the Council of Counts does add a point in his favour. I can put up with blue socks in a good cause. The interrogation team say he sounds completely sane most of the time, and then suddenly he’s off on another plane of reality. He’s done all sorts of work as he and his mother moved around, he was a security guard at an art gallery for a while, he also did some time in jail for petty theft, so he had the contacts and enough knowledge to convince some of our less perceptive career criminals. And he found the tunnel years ago, as a child hiding from the municipal guard. He had all the pieces, and he finally put them together. It’s depressing to realise how close he came to succeeding.”

Suddenly Valya was the subject of the Imperial attention. “It seems, Lady Valentina, that We do indeed owe you our thanks.”

Under that intense gaze she blurted out what was in her mind, “I don’t know, I think my plan was as crazy as his. What’s going to happen to him?” And what’s going to happen to me, but she couldn’t ask that, not yet.

“He’ll be given appropriate treatment. Barrayar has much better therapists than it used to.”

Miles grimaced, “That’s not difficult really, since we didn’t have any.”

“And then possibly he’ll return to Sergyar. Or maybe some care facility on Barrayar. It depends on how well he responds to treatment.”

So that was the end of the evil plot. Just a sad madman trying to live out a dream. Just like her. She waited for her sentence.

“I would like to express my gratitude more formally. And I’m sure Laisa would like to thank you, too. You’ll be contacted in a day or so about that, but right now I… We… would like to express sincere gratitude for your efforts. The ringleader of the plot may be insane, but a highly focussed madman can achieve a great deal.”

They all ignored a Vorpatril mumble of “Not even a needler can stop them…”

“But for now,” they all bounced to their feet as the Emperor stood up, “I’m afraid I have a series of meetings stacked up, and my staff will be most displeased if I take any more time out of my schedule.” 

So… what happens next? Home? Jail? Back to ImpSec? It seemed rude to ask. Although it was a rather pressing question.

“Yes, Sire. Thank you. I mean, it was… I just wanted to…” 

“To make things whole again? You’ve succeeded. Full circle, you redeemed your family’s honour in the place where… so much happened. We’ll talk more about this next time.”

And a few moments later she realised they were in the corridor – corridors again, always corridors – outside the office.

“Oh.”

“Yes, it’s always like that for people. Meeting Gregor can be quite intense.”

Lord Vorpatril started to limp along the corridor, “Can I go home now? Please? Or do you want to launch me from a giant slingshot? Or use me for target practice? There’s a few bits of me that haven’t been damaged yet.”

“Suffering for a good cause, Ivan. We had an important job to do.”

“Oh yes, WE had a job, but you take the credit, and I’m the one who gets boom, boom, splatted.”

“Go with your strengths.”

Valya drifted along beside them as their happy family warfare continued. Was it over? She was trying not to hope. 

“Lady Valentina, we’ll take you home now, but perhaps, if you don’t mind, we’ll swing past Lord Vorpatril’s apartment building and drop him off on the way. I’m sure the constant whining is getting on your nerves.”

“Whining? WHINING? Suffering in noble silence, me. Whining indeed. When I think of all the things you’ve put me through…”

It was a very long list.

The lightflyer seemed very quiet after Lord Vorpatril was deposited outside a tall building in an expensive part of town. The driver swung them around towards the more economical suburbs near the university.

“Will he be alright? He did fall through a building.”

The Auditor waved airily, “It wasn’t a free fall, he bounced a few times on the way. It’s only when he stops complaining that it’s time to worry. Ivan just doesn’t want to get a reputation for being efficient, that’s all.”

“That seems…”

“Defensive colouration. He plays the Vor bore very well. Ah, here we are. This is your place, yes?”

The flyer settled at the kerb outside her apartment building. “Oh. Yes. Um, my com unit…?”

“Waiting for you upstairs. All of your possessions have been returned. And I add my thanks to the Emperor’s, you have indeed done the Imperium a fine service.”

“And I have my honour back? It’s strange, I’ve dreamt about that all my life, getting a chance to do something important. But now... I don’t feel any different. I thought it’d be more…”

“Trumpets and a heavenly choir?” he grinned, “I know the feeling, it’s post-mission let-down. Don’t worry, you’ll bounce back again.”

“But… maybe I’m as crazy as the fake emperor. We’ve each grown up with a huge task hanging over us. And now it seems that nobody else really knew or cared, after all.”

He studied her seriously, “Times have changed so much since it all happened. Back then, your father really did face a serious threat. The slightest whisper of suspicion could have been disastrous. But now… Barrayar has moved on. Thank goodness.”

“Old sins cast long shadows.”

“My mother says that, too. And they do. But…we can step out of the shadows. I’ll be seeing you again soon, my lady.” 

And a moment later he was gone.

Valentina trudged up the stairs to her door. First things first. A nice cup of tea – she’d kill for a cup of tea right now. And then a bath. And another cup of tea. 

Then she was going to finish her dissertation. Get a cat. And swim naked in a fountain.

But first, the tea.


	6. Chapter 6

“Byerly, you’re this close to getting kicked down the stairs. Go home, leave me alone, and next time you need a witness find someone else. Anyone else. Go. Shoo!”

The familiar voice echoed down the hall. Valya had been waiting so long she’d sat down to rest against the door, now she tried to get up but one foot had gone to sleep. She desperately scrabbled around in the doorway.

Footsteps echoed, and then two pairs of feet rounded the corner. 

“By, I’m not giving you breakfast. Or coffee. Or anything. I barely have time to get ready for work. And don’t you have to make a report to someone?”

“But Ivan, how can you treat a comrade so callously? After we stood shoulder to shoulder against the foe – “

“We sat in a booth and watched three idiots get drunk. All night.”

“And those idiots were passing classified information. Which, thanks to your inspired subterfuge, we can now prove.”

“I bumped into a waiter and he tipped a whole tray of drinks over me.”

“Thus distracting them while I flash-loaded that data chip. Giving us the proof we needed. All in all, a successful mission.”

She could see them now, Lord Vorpatril and a man she didn’t recognise, tall, slender, dark-haired. Both were wearing beautifully cut evening clothes, slightly the worse for wear. Lord Vorpatril was fumbling for his door control and didn’t see her right away. The other man stopped and stared down at her. “Why Ivan, you get much better service in this part of town. All they deliver to my apartment is milk. Do you get a fresh girl every morning? And what do you do with the empties?”

Valya finally got her feet under control and scrambled to her feet. “Uh, sorry, I – I didn’t know you were busy. I wanted to – it doesn’t matter. Sorry.” She tried to leave, but Lord Vorpatril was somehow blocking the hallway.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” His voice was totally different now, low and serious.

“No, no, it’s fine, I just wanted to ask – nothing. Really. You have to get to work and you have someone here, and…”

Somehow he was ushering her into the apartment. He seemed to be very good and making things happen without apparent effort. Lord Ivan turned to close the door, but the other man eeled through before he could shut it. “By, go home.”

“And leave this lovely young lady unchaperoned? That would be totally improper.” He draped himself over the couch, “Have you ever wondered about that? It would destroy her reputation if she was alone with one gentleman, but it’s fine if there’s two of them. Our ancestors were very careful to organise the rules for correct Vor behaviour, but I rather think they lacked imagination.”

“By…” Valya watched as Lord Vorpatril advanced menacingly towards his unwanted guest.

“Yes, such a lovely young lady. With excellent hearing, no doubt.”

Valya watched as Lord Vorpatril froze for a moment staring at his unwanted guest, then he turned slowly towards her, “Lady Valentina, may I present Lord Byerly Vorrutyer. By, this is Lady Valentina Vordarian. By is a well-known town clown, who spouts a lot of rubbish. Not worth listening to, really. I hope our conversation didn’t bother you.”

“Um… I didn’t really notice what you were saying outside, I’d dozed off. A bit. And… I’m sorry to take your time, Lord Vorpatril. I’ll go…” She tried to edge towards the door.

By was at his most innocent, which Ivan knew meant that he was enjoying himself immensely at someone else’s expense. Ivan’s, usually. “Why were you dozing on his doorstep, Lady Valentina? Ivan’s women are usually fighting to get out, not in.”

Ivan glared at him, “Women fight to get at me, not away from me. I can’t speak for your experience, of course.” Too late he realised that Valentina was now blushing furiously, obviously embarrassed. Damn By, the twisty little snake made you do his dirty work for him. “No, wait, I didn’t mean...” He swore under his breath as Byerly grinned at him. Next chance he got he was going to let Miles loose on By. And watch. With great enjoyment.

He took a deep breath and counted to ten. “Lady Valentina, would you like some coffee? I’ll just see what I have in the kitchen,” He knew he had coffee. Maybe even milk. Failing that, there was wine. And that was just about all, apart from a few leftovers. Ivan firmly believed that cooking was something that happened to other people. If the local eateries stopped delivering, he’d starve.

“By, please entertain Lady Valentina for a moment. Gregor and Miles would both be extremely displeased if she was upset.” That should be enough of a warning, or threat, to keep By in line.

By the time he was back with coffee, By had managed to explore Valentina’s background and childhood. She’d apparently kept quiet about more recent events. Good, if she could keep her secrets, she’d be able to keep By’s as well. Trust him to blab about his undercover operation in a public hallway. Damn man must be more drunk than he looked. Although he was sobering up fast now.

“Ivan, this lovely young lady seems to be a woman of mystery. What’s going on?” By wasn’t sure how far to push, since Gregor and Miles were apparently involved in all of this. 

“Lady Valentina found out about a plot against Gregor. Possibly saved his life. Gregor is grateful. Miles is grateful. I fell through a building.” He sipped the nectar of the gods. Whoever invented coffee should have been made a saint. “Now, my lady, how can I help you?”

This wasn’t at all how she’d planned it. “Lord Vorpatril, I’m so sorry to have bothered you. I just wanted to ask you something, I thought I’d catch you on the way to work.” She’d arrived early, ready to pounce. Ringing the doorbell was too pushy, but just bumping into him casually seemed like a good idea when she planned this. Yes, just happened to be passing by in the hallway outside his apartment? Grand plan. Panic will do that do you. She was starting to suspect that her fiendishly cunning planning gene was misfiring. “I saw where you lived when we dropped you off the other night. I…I just wanted to ask you something,” 

“That’s fine. What did you want to ask me? Is there any problem? Miles can probably solve it, he’s good with problems. He’s had plenty of practice solving them, since he creates so many.” Hopefully this was a quick problem, too, since he had to shower away a trayfull of spilled drinks, and change into uniform. He hated being obviously late, the Colonel always looked at him, and said nothing. He always tried to tread the fine line between too conscientious and too lax. Avoid attracting attention, that was the trick.

“Well, you see… I got an invitation. To the Emperor’s Birthday.”

The Emperor’s Birthday started the Vor social season that ran through to Winterfair. The Vorbarr Sultana social scene cranked up to a new level, the social events doubled in number, size and lavish display. Vor buds were introduced to Society. Politics seethed, deals were made, marriages arranged – often related to the deals – the whole pageant rolled on. All of the High Vor would be at the Birthday, plus an increasing percentage of distinguished proles and a scattering of Komarrans. Ivan wondered if there’d be some Sergyarans this time – obviously the third planet had been overlooked for too long.

“That’s fine, Gregor said that he wanted to thank you.”

“I declined. Turned it down. Said I couldn’t go.”

Both men stared at her, then By leaned forward, “My dear young lady, you can’t refuse. Not unless you’re seriously ill or there’s some family tragedy. An invitation to the Birthday is like an Imperial command. As well as an honour, of course.”

“I know! An armsman came and menaced me. He made it sound like it was treason to refuse, and I just can’t go through all that again. I’m beginning to wish I’d never kidnapped the emperor in the first place!”

Ivan had the immense satisfaction of seeing By totally gobsmacked. “Uh…you what?”

“Shut up, By. Lady Valentina, why did you want to refuse?” A lifetime of Miles had taught Ivan to check his facts carefully before acting. Whenever possible. Not always easy when Miles was involved.

“I – I don’t have anything to wear!” It was a wail of distress. “I know that sounds totally stupid and girly and ridiculous, and it is, but I know what High Vor are like, they’re vicious if they sense weakness. For a woman, the right dress is weapon and armour combined. And I don’t have one!”

“So… buy one?”

She glared at him, “I tried. All of the shops I went to had prole stuff, even some Vor stuff, but not High Vor. One of the women was really kind, she gave me a list of six places to try. They aren’t shops, High Vor don’t go to shops, they go to establishments. And the establishments don’t have customers, they have clientele. They don’t advertise, they just have a tiny discreet sign, or nothing at all. If you don’t know, you’re not a suitable client.”

“And you tried them?” Ivan was sure he could name them, he’d escorted his mother often enough, on her very dignified shopping sprees. And she only ever went to the most exclusive High Vor establishments.

“Oh, I tried. Two wouldn’t see anyone who didn’t have an appointment. And there’s no appointments available until next year. Three wanted referrals from existing clients. And one wouldn’t even open the door to me. So I sent a regretful refusal, and got menaced by an armsman, and now I have to go and the Emperor’s probably angry with me and I still have nothing to wear. I thought… you seemed so kind, you were going to kill me nicely and everything, so I thought you could maybe be my sponsor to get me in to one of those places.”

By was leaning forward, his eyes gleaming, “You need wardrobe consultants. A makeover. It’ll be Vornderella!”

Ivan groaned, “By, go away. Now. Before I throw you off the balcony and make a mess on the pavement. They make us pay a levy for the cleanup, you know. I’ll call Ekaterin – no, she’s away in the District this week, something to do with plants. Harvest something-or-other. My mother… damn, she won’t be back from the coast for a few more days. Um…”

By jumped up and struck a pose, “You SHALL go to the ball, my dear! You have here two of the greatest experts on female attire in Vorbarr Sultana. I’ve helped many a lady make style choices, my taste is unparalleled. And Ivan… has made a long and dedicated study of the whole subject. Although he does tend to rate clothes on their ease of removal. So, today, we find you the perfect gown. Ivan, call that place where you pretend to work and tell them you won’t be in today.”

“By, get lost. Now. I can take her to Estelle’s.”

“And they won’t see anything wrong with you helping a young lady choose clothing?”

“Of course… not… um…”

“We don’t want scandal, do we. Remember, one gentleman is a reputation destroyed, two is fully chaperoned. Thank you, dear sweet innocents from the old days. So, my dear, you will have two escorts. Ivan, go and get cleaned up, you smell like a brewery.”

“I can’t take a day off work to go dress shopping!” 

“Why not, Colonel DuFontein does, but that’s another story. Ivan, you said that Gregor is taking an interest in all of this? So doesn’t that make this your duty?”

The balcony was tempting, but the neighbours would probably complain. Ivan growled and headed off to shower and change. And think. Technically, this was still part of his auditor-assistant duties, it was related to that incident. His conscience was fine with taking a day away from Ops to deal with the problem. And he could rustle up a female to help, if he needed to – there was a whole squad of Koudelkas, for a start – not Vor, but they knew the territory. But… the fewer people involved the better, that was always the rule. He didn’t know how much of the incident was going to be made public, better to keep the circle as small as possible for now. And By was irritating, infuriating and a general nuisance, but he was also ImpSec, more or less, and so, at least for now, controllable. Ivan rehearsed that line of justification in his mind, sure that sooner or later he’d be delivering it to Gregor or Miles.

Finally, after By freshened up and they’d had breakfast at a nearby café, they arrived at Estelle’s. Ivan talked his way in, he had no scruples about using his mother’s name to get instant attention. Valentina was swept away to be measured, and By settled on to one of the extremely uncomfortable chairs, “Just as a matter of interest, will she be able to pay for this? Has she any idea what a High Vor gown, and all the added extras, will cost?”

“That’s ok, I’ve got it covered.”

“You’re going to pay? Ohhh Ivan, delicious scandal after all.”

“No, and one whisper of any of this from you and I’ll… I’ll tell my mother how you got that information about the data drop.”

“You would too. Ivan, you have a heart of stone. Don’t worry, I like her. And I’m determined to find out about how she kidnapped Gregor. The girl has style. But who’s paying for this?”

“Gregor. I’ll have them send the account to him.”

“Uh… he hasn’t been married all that long. How does one put this delicately… has the bloom faded from his romance already? I thought the Imperial couple were still nauseatingly devoted. Is this girl some special interest of his?”

“Dammit By! How the hell do you do what you do when you’re so indiscreet? Anyone could be listening. And no, she’s not… that kind of interest. She really did save his life. Maybe. Sort of.”

“I succeed because nobody ever actually listens to me. And I’ll take your word about her status.”

Ivan glared at him, “There’s an old law – any unmarried Vor maidens who have no family to protect them are under the care and protection of their District Count. So she’s practically Gregor’s ward.”

“Is that true? Really? I’ve never heard of it.”

“That’s because most Vor have more relatives than they’d ever need. Or want.” He looked pointedly at By. “But I know it’s true, the Professora was talking about it at a dinner-party a few weeks ago, a discussion about the odd old laws that are still on the books.”

“And you remembered? Ivan, you’ll seem almost intelligent if you keep this up.”

Fortunately, Valentina and several eager attendants returned in a swirl of excited discussion. (Not shop assistants, of course. Establishments have modistes.) Byerly joined in with suggestions about colour and style. Ivan folded his arms and leaned against the wall, his usual position when forced to accompany his mother on these jaunts. Maybe her affair with Simon Illyan wasn’t so bad after all – now it was Simon who did dress-shop duty. Serve him right.

Of course, a Vor maiden needed more than just the gown. There were the matching shoes, gloves, scarf, cloak, assorted underthings that he tried not to hear about… it went on and on. And on.

Eventually everyone was smiling, which meant that Valentina was happy with the outfit, and the modistes were happy that she’d just spent a thumping great sum of money.

This was the moment Ivan had been expecting. Valentina turned to Madame Estelle, or her nearest equivalent, and said, “When will everything be ready? And the account… how much…?”

Ivan stepped forward, “It’s all organised. The outfit – sorry, ensemble – will be delivered the day after tomorrow. And the account will be sent.” He carefully didn’t say where. He probably couldn’t avoid the battle about payment, but he could at least pick the location, and this was not the place. The last thing they wanted now was to start a tidal wave of gossip – and these high-class dressmakers were ferocious about passing on any breath of scandal. He was hoping that the generous use of his mother’s name, and Gregor’s, as well as his obvious boredom at the whole proceedings, would head off any careless talk. Having Byerly decoratively draped over a sofa didn’t hurt, either. Nobody would include the chattering town clown if they were trying to hide something.

Valentina was taken away for a final consultation, and Ivan sighed, “Thank goodness that’s over.”

“Over, Ivan? We’ve barely begun.” Byerly stretched and smiled, “In a few day’s time she’ll be on display in front of the assembled Vorbarr Sultana Vor. And, as she said, they can be vicious if they sense blood in the water. Now, we only have a few days to make sure that our little protégé is going to make the grade. Can she dance? Does she eat correctly? Can she drink like a Vor? Does she know who everyone is? What to say, and who not to say it to? How to fight off a drunken Vor lord? Ivan, we have so much work to do!”

Ivan closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. No, it wasn’t a nightmare. “By, why are you doing this? You never help anyone unless there’s something in it for you.”

“Oh Ivan, you wound me. Besides, it never hurts to store up a few good deeds.”

Ivan followed the other two out of the establishment and trudged towards the lightflyer. This was All Miles’s Fault. When everything went horribly wrong, as it was sure to do, he just had to make sure that everyone knew that this was All Miles’s Fault.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	7. Chapter 7

“The Residence! I never thought I’d come in through the front door!” Valya glided through the main doors, flanked by her escorts – Byerly in his best ruffled and piped Town Clown gear, Ivan in his glittering formal Red-and-Blues.

Ivan nodded to the hovering servant in Vorbarra livery who was checking the guests as they arrived. Nothing so crass as asking anyone for their invitations, of course. He knew most of the invitees by sight, and a discreet ear bud was no doubt relaying information from watchers in a security room somewhere about anyone new. 

Ivan trudged up the wide staircase. By and Valya bounced along beside him, chattering happily. By pointed out some of the major figures in the flocks of arriving guests, muttering delightful snippets of scandal along with genealogical identifications. “Now over there are Count and Countess Vormuir. They’ve been getting on a lot better since he stopped producing replicator daughters. Just don’t mention dowries to him. And that stunning specimen is Count Vorbretten with his lovely young Countess. Don’t mention Cetagandans to them, otherwise they’re fine. That booming woman with the formidable frontage and the somewhat crushed-looking husband is Countess Vorinnis, I suppose she’s…?”

“My great-aunt. They were quite kind to me, they sent me to a good school and helped me afford university. I haven’t seen them for a while, though.”

“We will avoid them until later in the evening, when she’s had fun terrorising Vorbarr Sultana high society enough to tamp down her energy slightly. Oh, that’s the Vordarian contingent over there. We’ll stay away from them for a while, too.”

Valya glanced at the group, curiously, “I haven’t met them very often. They’re polite, but I think I make them uncomfortable. Or maybe that’s just me feeling awkward. I was at the same school as some of his grand-daughters, but Olga was a few years ahead of me, and Natalya was a few years behind, so we didn’t cross paths much. But they were nicer to me than some of the others.”

By nodded, “Olga is the one who breeds all those ghastly dogs. A rather hearty young woman, she spends most of her time in the District, lives on a small property with a close friend, I understand. The two women are said to be devoted to those pets of theirs. And to each other. To each their own. And Natalya has just become betrothed to Count Voreedi’s nephew. Lovely couple, he’s madly in love with her, and so is she.” 

Ivan steered the other two towards the line waiting patiently for entry to the main ballroom. “Do you see much of Christina Vordarian?”

By smirked, “After her efforts in the fountain, everyone saw much of Christina Vordarian.”

Valya sighed, “Swimming naked in the fountain, in the Main Square. I’d love to try that some day.”

“It’s on your list.” Ivan had heard about the list, they’d discussed it during the dancing practice By had insisted upon. After their shopping trip they’d all spent the rest of that day and evening together. By had tested Valya’s High-Vor social skills, which it turned out had been well-drilled by her Vor-bud academy. They’d practised appropriate greetings, how to move in a long gown, and above all dancing. 

“Just knowing the steps isn’t enough,” By was happy to lecture his audience, “You have to be able to think while you dance. You must converse, discuss, flirt, laugh lightly… in short, be clever and enchanting, while not missing a step.”

And, eventually, Valya was able to please her new dancing-master.

“It’s not like it was at school,” she muttered after squashing Ivan’s toes for the tenth time, “We had to be silent and listen to M’selle Eclarien. And I usually had to dance as a boy, because it was pointed out….frequently….that I’d never need to know how to dance at a High Vor ball anyway.”

“Tell me about school,” Ivan, obedient to a glare from By, kept the conversation going as they whirled around his living room. Maybe if he distracted her she’d stop worrying about the steps, let it all flow properly, and stop tromping on his toes. 

Valya’s lips had a bitter twist, “I went to a select boarding school for sweet, delicate young Vor ladies. I know more about low-down flat vicious combat than anything they taught you at the Military Academy. For a start, you have no idea how many times I found a shopping bag on my bed. Usually it was a cabbage inside. I was always careful to return it to the senders when they least expected it. Often with something far worse inside – I found a dead cat once. That was marvellous – it was one of the nastiest bullies who got that one, there were maggots all over her bed before Anastasia found it. Ah, happy memories.” 

Ivan had no trouble believing it, long experience had taught him that the most gentle and fragile little bud could have a will of steel and a truly terrifying vicious streak. Apparently they taught them that in their schools. 

He nudged the conversation into happier paths, and soon Valya was confiding her plans for the future, “I have to finish my doctorate. I think maybe it really is finished, I just can’t stop checking and rechecking. And I’m going to put more of my energy into my business, there’s so much to be done to preserve our older buildings, we can’t just become imitation Nexus, we need to keep our own identity. I have to chase more important jobs, really build the business. And I need a cat. And that fountain – if my cousin can swim in it, so can I. And… just a life. I want to just stop being careful, and quiet. I want to be seen!”

Well, she was being seen now. Ivan stepped up towards the greeting party at the head of the stairs; Gregor and Laisa, and – oh wonderful – his mother and Simon. He considered sliding back down the banister – he’d done that many times when he was younger. But it was too late. Ivan could feel the tension in Valya, and eased her along. His little party stepped forward. Gregor and Laisa smiled, both sides gave the accepted greetings. Gregor nodded at them all, “No time now, of course. We’ll talk later.”

Ivan walked on, stiff-legged, managing automatic polite greetings with his mother and Simon. We. We’ll talk. Which we? Gregor and Valya? Of course, it had to be. This was a way of thanking her and establishing her within the Vor. We – Gregor and Ivan? Surely not. Ivan had sent a rather stiff message to Gregor, just explaining the bills and mentioning the armsman scaring Valya, but Gregor wouldn’t… not at the Birthday Ball, anyway…. Surely… 

On the bright side, worrying about Gregor got Ivan past his mother and Simon without any difficult moments. Although Alys raised an eyebrow – which meant ‘later’ from her, too.

Ivan steered his group towards the nearest waiter. Wine. He needed plenty of wine to get through this evening. Why hadn’t he broken his personal rule and volunteered for special duty tonight? He scooped up a glass as the tray floated past.

Valya was wide-eyed, almost dizzy with relief at surviving the Imperial greeting. By continued his low-voiced running commentary on the other guests: “That’s Lady Voreedi. Which means that Lord Voreedi will be on the far side of the ballroom. And over there is Countess Vorpinski and her family. She’s managed to swing a marriage for one of her grand-daughters, but she’s still trying to snag a partner for that horse-faced one, we’ll just slide past them. And that’s…”

As they drew level with the Vorpinski group Valya stiffened like a suspicious cat. Two young women detached from their family and stepped forward, smiling. Well, showing a lot of teeth. By and Ivan, both experienced in High Vor social discourse, glanced around for the nearest cover.

Valya’s teeth were also showing, “Oh how lovely to see some familiar faces. I’ve missed all the fun we used to have at school. Anastasia, Marina, how are you?”

Marina eyed Valya’s outfit, and sadly could find nothing to criticise. She smiled graciously, “Villain, what a surprise to see you here. Are you one of the entertainers for the evening? I always said that you sing so sweetly – you could make an honest living at it.”

“Thanks so much for the advice, Meanie. Have you ever considered an honest living yourself? Or are you just going to marry the first man who can’t escape. Oh wait, you did, didn’t you. I meant to send commiserations to the groom. Ohhh sorry, I mean congratulations. Of course. And where is the luckless – I mean lucky – man this evening?”

Marina’s smile was frozen, “He’s on duty tonight.”

Ivan nodded, trying to ease the conversation along, “Volunteered, did he? I’ve often considered that myself. Much nicer to be in a quiet, friendly office than stuck in this scrum.”

By moaned silently and tried to kick Ivan in the shins.

Anastasia, whose grandmother had made a spirited attempt to capture Ivan for her at one time, and been totally defeated, tittered, “Oh Villain darling, are you picking up my rejects now?”

Valya gave a tight smile, “Nasty, dear, I couldn’t handle that many. They seem to escape you in droves.” 

A swirl of passing guests generated enough noise and movement for Ivan and By to hustle their delicate companion past the danger zone before blood started flowing. 

Ivan’s glass had somehow gone empty. He reached for another one, but By cut in, “Not this time, Ivan. You’re going to need a clear head to get through this.”

“A clear head is the last thing anyone wants at these things. Get some anaesthetic into you as soon as possible, that’s what I say.” But he stepped back with a regretful last look at the tray. 

The band finished their soft background music and played the chords to warn innocent bystanders that the dancing was about to begin. By waved Ivan and Valya onto the floor, “Off you go, my dears, show the world what you can do.”

After a few stiff steps Valya relaxed, it was only Lord Vorpatril after all, she’d been practising her dancing with him for hours just yesterday. Valya smiled, and floated around the floor as Ivan told her some edited stories about previous Emperor’s Birthdays. For the next dance, By took a turn – he was, of course, a superb dancer. And his stories were far less edited than Ivan’s, and reduced Valya to gasps and giggles the whole time. 

For the next hour Valya danced every dance, and spent the time between being introduced to Ivan’s friends and family, and some others that By whispered were ‘….useful contacts….’

Ivan managed another dance with her just before supper. He congratulated himself on his staff work as the dance finished and he steered her into the supper room. He escorted her along the heavily-laden tables. “So what did you talk about with all of them?”

Valya tried to decide between smoked salmon and spiced fowl, and then took a slice of each, “Well, Captain Galeni gave me some very useful advice about getting my doctorate. Mostly that, at some point, you have to stop fussing and fiddling with it, take the plunge and hand it in. And he had some good tips about dealing with the Board.”

“Yes, he’s sometimes more academic than military.”

“And Count Vorbretten was very kind. We talked about music – my father loved music. It was so nice to bring back some of those good memories. Count Vorrutyer was so funny – very like Byerly. He’s asked me to have a look at Vorrutyer House, he wants to do some restoration and careful modernising. It’ll be my biggest job so far. Oh, and there was Lord Vorkosigan.”

They’d drifted back to the ballroom. Ivan glared at a small figure in brown and silver, still circling the floor with tall, elegant Ekaterin.

“Yes, you seemed to enjoy chatting with him. What…what did you talk about?”

It’s slightly embarrassing to dance with someone you’ve drugged unconscious and tied up, but Lord Vorkosigan didn’t seem to hold any grudges. “The ball, and you, and my list. Oh, and he’s invited me to afternoon tea tomorrow, at Vorkosigan House, to pick out a kitten – isn’t that kind of him!” 

“He’s infested all of Vorbarr Sultana with those psychotic furballs of his. What did he say about me?” 

“He said – “ Valya broke off as a figure in black and silver loomed at her side. 

The armsman bowed, “Lady Valentina, the Emperor requests the honour of the next dance.”


End file.
